I remain on the sidewalk alone. I feel hollow. Dami has a husband and kids. I wanted a husband and kids, Jason’s kids. I take in a deep breath and try to shake thoughts of Jason out of my head. I walk into the fish market. The smell of fresh, truly fresh fish fills the air. It is a clean smell. There is the spicy smell of Tteokbokki. Its been a long time since I’ve eaten authentic Tteobokki. I make a note to stop by the stand on my way out. I pull Auntie Ji An’s grocery list from my purse and wander through the vendors. So many different kinds of fish and sea creatures. The sounds of the trolly carts, the vendors and customers talking takes me back in time. When Hae-in was seventeen he worked at this market delivering ice to the vendors. I remember him in khaki shorts, steel toe boots and a white T-shirt pushing the ice cart between the stalls. I could have watched him all day.
One by one I gather the ingredients for Auntie Ji An. I wish she was here with me. Last of all I purchase the prawns and squid. I put them in the cooler.I check my phone.My heart jumps when I see his text. He is on his way. I go to the Tteokbokki stand and order two servings of Tteobokki to go, one for me and one for Auntie Ji An. It smells so good. I payand head toward the entrance.
I settle myself on a bench to wait. I like people watching. I especially enjoy the grandma’s and the children. Right on time, I see Auntie Ji An’s VW approaching. It stops. Hae-in’s expression is neutral. I get in the car. Did the interview go well? I hope so, but I don’t ask.
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Hae-in sniffs the air. “Is that Tteobokki?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have some?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” He pauses before he asks, “Remember that park with the swings?”
“Yes.”
“Want to eat there?”
“Uh sure.” One good memory of my thirteenth summer took place in that park. I wonder if Hae-in remembers? Probably not.
I feel my heart rate kick up as we drive to the park. The gulls criss cross the sky. Hae-in parks the car and we get out. The wind has set the swings to swinging. I feel like I am having an out of body experience, and I am. The part of me that is thirteen is very muchalive, so alive there isn’t much room left for the me that Icurrently am.
Gravel crunches under our shoes. The tang of salt water stings my nostrils. I feel tears forming, I struggle to hold them back. I tell myself it is just the wind. It isn’t.